women could not answer
their children: will he return
when the city was setting
they put the fire out with hands
pressing their eyes

the children on our street
had a difficult death

pigeons fell lightly
like shot down air

now the lips of the Poet
form an empty horizon
birds children and wives cannot live
in the city’s funereal shells
in cold eiderdowns of ashes

the city stands over water
smooth as the memory of a mirror
it reflects in the water from the bottom

and flies to a high star
where a distant fire is burning
like a page of the Iliad

CERNUNNOS

The new gods walked behind the Roman army at a suitable distance, so
Venus’ swaying hips and Bacchus’ uncontrolled fits of laughter would not seem improper. Ashes were still warm, ants and beetles solemnly burying the barbarian heroes.The old gods watched the entrance of the new ones from behind trees,
without sympathy but with admiration. The white, hairless bodies seemed weak yet attractive.Despite difficulties with language a summit meeting took place. After
a few conferences, spheres of influence were divided up. The old gods were content with minor positions in the provinces. But for important ceremonies their figures were carved in stone—crumbly sandstone—together with the gods of the conquerors.The real shadow on the collaboration was cast by Cernunnos. Although
he adopted a Latin ending on the advice of his colleagues, no laurel could conceal his spreading, constantly growing horns.This is why he usually resided in distant woods. Often he could be
seen in the dark meadows at dusk. In one hand he holds a serpent with a lamb’s head, with the other he draws signs on the air that are completely incomprehensible.